Happily Ever After
by JustADreamAway735
Summary: Their story wasn't anything like a fairytale. The prince doesn't always save the princess and have an immediate happily ever after, a lesson that this certain couple would learn. Love takes place in all different forms, it seems.


Rapunzel always hated dinner time.

Whilst being forced to wear uncomfortable shoes and an uncomfortably tight dress and sit in an uncomfortable, icky hard chair, she had to sit up pin-straight and consume her food in silence.

And there was _a lot_ of silence.

In an attempt to break the monotonous conversation of metal scraping against food, she piqued, "The weather's been lovely this week, wouldn't you say?"

The sudden outburst of her voice obviously surprised her partner, who sat at the opposite end of the ten-foot table. His eyes merely flickered upward for a second, then returned to his food. "That it has been, wife," he replied. "Odd, for winter. I would implore you to enjoy it while it lasts."

With that, their meal morphed again into a rigid quiet–just like the other 364 nights. She felt foolish for deluding herself into thinking that something would change.

Rapunzel stifled a sigh and stirred her now-chilled soup. _Happy one year anniversary_ she thought to herself.

* * *

Though it was completely in her power to do so, Rapunzel felt little desire to ask to bring much of anything from her own castle; the memories of what she left behind would have hurt her too much.

One thing she did bring, however, was her book of fairytales. Or, as she dearly dubbed it now, her book of 'false fantasies'.

Her story was not one of sweet princes, singing birds, evil magic, or true love. It was one of harsh reality and necessity, where political alliances were important and love accounted for nothing. As a small child, her mother often taught her that a princess's duty was to the good of her kingdom, that she would do whatever it would take to ensure its safety and well-being. But always afterward, her mother would sing a lullaby and soothe her tiny mind with magical tales.

Needless to say, Rapunzel was a bit shell-shocked to find out that she'd be married–_sold off_–to a prince from a country she had no idea about, and the wedding would take place in a month.

The ensuing weeks of fittings and crash courses on a foreign tongue flew by quick as the summer wind. In her young, naive seventeen-year-old mind, she knew her betrothal to another would be taking place, but something important was missing. Even when vows were exchanged and he (the prince, her _husband_) gave her a kiss as formal as a handshake, something did not click.

Then their wedding night had come–he had bid her a polite goodnight and left her in her own bedroom.

That was when Rapunzel realized that 'love' was missing.

That was the first and only night she cried herself to sleep.

For the other following nights, she was kept up late wondering if 'happily ever after' would come. But with every passing day, the chances of it happening grew dimmer and dimmer. Now, she doubted of its very existence at all.

* * *

After their first-anniversary, she decided if love would never blossom, she could at least learn to care for and tolerate, no matter how much he resisted her advances. There was no sense in moping about a childish fantasy, one that would only spring up due to luck and circumstance. Love, like that between her parents, was a one in a million chance occurrence. It'd be silly of her to think that it was in her power to replicate something remotely similar to that.

It wasn't as if he was abusive in any towards her, not at all; they just held no spark, no emotional connection that bound them together. At times, when he seemed the most far away from her, Rapunzel suspected that indifference, rather than tolerance, was his perspective of their union. Still, the prince wasn't a terrible husband; he left her wanting for naught, and never had a cruel word to say to her, and neither she of him. On occasion, he'd even grace a fleeting grin or stifle a small chuckle.

Nonetheless…there just wasn't any _love; _'acquaintanceship' was a generous term to call them. That was going to change today.

If she and her husband were to be forced in a union for the rest of their lives, they could at least be civil, normal human beings around each other.

She would be a dutiful wife, a caring mother for any children they could have, and a good queen for their kingdom. That was her promise. And she never, _ever _broke her promises.

With that resolution, the morning came with dry eyes and a strong sense of self. The eighteen-year-old princess quickly dressed into a a soft pink day gown without, for once, the help of her chamber maids. Leaving her hair down, Rapunzel made her way down to breakfast, a lighter bounce in her step than normal.

The lithe quality of her walk was interrupted however, upon her entrance into the breakfast room.

Already seated and engrossed in a thick novel was Jack. That was odd. Her daily schedule didn't account for his presence, as she normally ate breakfast alone while he was out attending to some business or other. Why would it be now of all times that he actually had shown up?

He diverted his focus to the sound of an opening door and, if he was startled at her sudden intrusion, didn't let anything on. He merely nodded, showed the tiniest of smiles, and gestured to the empty seat beside him.

"Good morning, my wife" Jack greeted. "Would you care to eat with me, this morning?"

"I would, husband."

Not much was said between the couple during those thirty minutes alone. Seeing as the breakfast room was small and held an informal round table in the centre, and that this was really the closest the two had been since their time at the altar. It was a peaceful sort of quiet, the kind that didn't provoke desires of spewing incessant conversation nor nervousness.

As odd as it sounded, it seemed as if Jack had the same exact epiphany as she during the course of the night. In fact, it was the most he had ever 'smiled' in her company. And while the environment was less than warm, and nowhere near comforting, Rapunzel could easily find herself saying that it was…unforced. Balanced, perhaps.

When the last of her juice was consumed, Rapunzel briskly brushed off any crumbs on her dress and said, "Well, I believe it's time for me to leave. I shall see you again come dinner?"

"You shall." He, too, brushed off excess crumbs and made move to leave. Offering one hand to aid her up, Jack added,"The day is looking fine again, perhaps you should enjoy the gardens in the meantime."

Rapunzel nodded her thanks. "Indeed. Good day, my husband."

His touch lingered briefly upon her bare hand. "Good day…Rapunzel."

* * *

For some reason, it then became routine of them to share breakfast together. After their seventh morning, Rapunzel jokingly asked if it was to seek refuge from his royal duties.

"Partly," he had replied, smiling softly. "And partly in due to being able to see my wife more throughout the day."

At that point, Rapunzel decided that his smile, gleaming white teeth and pale lips filled with kindness, was her favorite aspect of him.

Conversation didn't happen immediately, if it ever was initiated at all. Sometimes there'd be light conversation about foreign affairs or the weather. Other times there was a tranquil quiet. Either way was enjoyed highly by the couple.

After a month or so, Rapunzel noticed that he'd carry in a new book every few mornings.

"You're an avid reader, Jack?" she inquired over tea as the sun stretched its rays one morning. Now, she'd taken to addressing him more by his name and less by 'husband'.

"I like to get in books when I can, yes." He put down the novel he was holding, but lightly traced the cover designs with his fingertips. "They've given me escape from this world. I can be invisible here in politics and treaties and responsibility, but I'm just so _alive_ in stories…I can have some fun, for once."

Jack shot her a wry grin and remarked, "Your esteem of your husband has probably lowered now, hasn't it?"

"No, in fact, it hasn't." Rapunzel joined his fingers in a twirl around the golden stamping. "Books have been my escape ever since I was little, as well. And in my head, I…I don't know, I'm just transported off to a better time and place…Silly, isn't it?"

Their fingers stopped dancing, right on the center swirl where the apex of thumbs brushed ever so slightly. Eyes gazing, breaths intermingling, and bodies closer than what was proper, even for married ones, Jack murmured, "Not at all. Childish, maybe, but it's nothing I would condemn. We're still so _young_, aren't we?"

His question needed no answer. Rather than continue in a superfluous flurry of words, Jack soundlessly clasped her hand in his, and continued eating. It was the first time they had ever held hands so intimately.

Subsequently, spending time in the library became wormed into their routine. At some point after mid-day, but before late afternoon they would sink away into the sea of massive, shadowy shelves, and sit there in corners, or love seats, or simply on the carpeted floor, and just _be_ there together.

From King Arthur to Dr. Faustus, Shakespeare to Jane Austen, the couple created a world of their own, lost in their fictional fantasies. Surprisingly, if Jack decided to read to her aloud, he had a wonderful talent for making the character voices come to life; Rapunzel was very much impressed by that.

Though both had a love for the written word, weeks passed by in silent bliss and slowly the need to hide behind leather-bound books was discarded. The bright, three o'clock sun would shimmer through the clear glass windows and create a warm space to sit in. As important as discussing theories and great minds had become to them, quick little tidbits of their own selves were thrown into the mix as well.

That was how Rapunzel discovered that Jack liked the taste of mint, and why the castle received boxes of mint tea only days after.

That was how Jack found out about Rapunzel's passion for art, and why a whole wing with a view of the countryside was built in the castle.

At nights, dinner was a cropped and polished version of what it was only three months before. Shorter tables, shorter distances with longer conversations and less sounds of scraping metal was the standard. Goodnights were genuine and smiles were not forced. It was a give and take relationship, an equitable back and forth exchange between the two– it was something Rapunzel could confidently call 'friendship'.

On the threshold of March and the first buds of spring, Rapunzel solemnly shared her regrets that she had never the chance to go ice skating during winter.

Jack, needless to say, wanted to see her smile, and thus promised to take her to a nearby pond the very next day.

Though the harsh bites of winter nudged their way through her thick dress and coat, Rapunzel had to admit that the blooming signs of life bursting through the snow were beautiful. Jack…didn't share the same sentiment, but after some convincing on her part, conceded that the nature wasn't too bad to look at.

The pond itself was nearly crystal clear glass, a window at the underwater world below. At first, Rapunzel's glides were tentative like a fawn, and she made some protests about wanting to go back to their castle. Eyerolls were coming from Jack's end, and he guided her and her waist in a confident swirl around the sleek surface.

For a moment, everything about them was from her storybook: the prince and princess were laughing, enjoying each others' presence under bright sunlight. No indication of their lonely pasts were made; it was only a figment of some bad alternate universe, not at all a part of something they now shared.

Life was perfect, life was grand, life was–

A sharp crack was heard from underneath.

Ice was stronger in the middle of December rather than the beginning of March.

Rapunzel, still as the statue made of the very material which cracked beneath her, gazed at Jack with eyes as lethal and helpless as a winter storm.

"Jack…" Her whispers came out from barely-parted lips, as if any sudden movement would cause them to plunge into the depths below.

"Rapunzel…" Jack clasped her hands again, repeating his motions in that far away time at breakfast, where they were more innocent, more curious about their world and each other. "You need to trust me on this, okay?"

The air was much too thin.

"Jack, what are you–"

"I _need_ you to trust me on this, Rapunzel. Please." In one movement, Jack brought up her fists to his lips, his other hand trailing down to wrap around her waist. "You have to believe in me right now…Do you?"

The cracking became louder. She felt the once-solid ground fall away, herself slipping away from Jack and his arms. "Jack, I–"

The air was much too thin.

"Rapunzel, _please!"_

Her legs wobbled in eggshells. Frozen water sloshed, leaked, splashed at her thin blades to pull her below.

"I trust you!" She blurted out. Somehow, her fingers were entangled in his scarf, desperate to find sanctuary in him. "I trust you, but Jack–!"

"On the count of three, alright! _One!_"

The air was much too thin.

He fisted chunks of her cumbersome gown and hair.

"What do you mean–"

His muscles tensed.

"_Two!_"

One foot threatened to fall into the unforgiving water.

"_**Jack!**_"

"_**Three!**_"

By the time her feet left the ice, she noticed how precariously the cracks arranged around his own pair of skates. She floated, suspended in the air both by the force of his push and her disbelief, until a blunt landing on frosted dirt brought her back into reality.

Dazed and confused from the impact, it took her a moment to gather her senses. When she did, there were two things she noticed immediately:

Jack was no where to be seen.

Several bubbles floated to the top of the water.

* * *

Every servant on the castle grounds wished they had the ability to make the young princess smile again.

All steps Rapunzel took left behind imprints of utter misery in her wake, until the floors were littered with stains that not even the most skilled of maids could take away(nor would they have the heart to).

Not even she could identify the agonizing sorrow which permeated her bloodstream, stung at each individual pore. It was if she were the one plunged into the numbing waters and stuck inside this bottomless, arctic abyss. Why did her mind, body, and soul ache to see him again? What was this emptiness eating away at her core?

She felt like her lungs would give out at any moment.

Most days, she waited outside his room, waited for the smallest scrap of news the doctors had to offer her.

It wasn't at all good.

On the current morning, the coma had lasted a total of ten days and no signs of improvement. His shallow breath was accounted for, yet that was the only indication that a life still pulsed in his being. He was a ghost of a person, both in signs of life and in translucent white skin.

Rapunzel prayed, begged to whoever would listen, that he would pull through this.

Huddled outside the door, showing evidence from her wrinkled dress that she stayed put since the previous night, was how the main doctor had found her, and a small sense of pity tugged at his heart. It was a saddening sight to see a fledgling of a bride-let alone princess-become so warped in suffering from her groom's ailments. Still, a facade of cool profession was placed on as he shared, "You may come in to see him, Your Highness."

Truth be told, she hadn't before seen the inside of his chambers, but she wasn't at all surprised to see it decorated so simply. A color scheme of light blue and white; a perfect mimicry of the way he looked now.

Rapunzel wordlessly made her way to his bedside.

The medical respectfully left wife and husband alone, locking the doors tight behind them.

This time, she grasped _his_ hands, each stroke adding an internal apology to him.

Rapunzel did not know nor care how long she sat beside him, staring and stroking and apologizing. At some point, a servant or two may have come in to keep the fire up, she didn't know. All she focused on was her inner mantra, the one she hoped would alleviate his pain and her sins.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jack._

And miraculously…it worked.

He awoke hours later, with Rapunzel's tears streaming down his palm.

Like their whole first year's worth of dinnertime, Rapunzel made no move to speak. Instead, she replaced silly words with fierce, fiery kisses, hoping that those would express everything that was unsaid.

_Forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.  
_

_I thought you were dead._

And when her lips met his, Jack responded with embraces just as explosive, just as demonstrative as her own.

_Forgive me, I'm so sorry too. I'm here with you._

_I love you._

There was that word. Love.

Even though their relationship was anything but storybook, cookie cutter, Rapunzel could believe now that things would be alright.

Love didn't need to be forced, nor come on a schedule. It wasn't something to be predicted, it wasn't something to have concrete knowledge of. It couldn't be replicated, nor did it have a set model. It happened when it wanted to happen, occurred however it so pleased. And that was all fine with her.

It was an odd romantic scheme, but she figured they would map out the storm together. Later, that is.

Between their embraces, their touches, their kisses, their confessions, and their breathless laughter, the prince and princess did not find a 'happily ever after'.

They did, however, find the words to their new 'once upon a time'.

* * *

_**A/N: For some reason, I found their cool, distant relationship to right about very pleasing to write :) Originally posted to tumblr for Jackunzel Valentines Week Day 7, 2014. And the reason why I posted this as another, separate story from "Drabbles, Blots, and Etc."? I felt like this was strong enough to stand on its own...plus it didn't seem like much of a drabble. So, here it is!  
**_

_**Until next chapter**_

_**-(insert real name here)**_


End file.
